Wild Horses
by mypiratecat1
Summary: PostAWE. Captain Teague's thoughts about his son as he plays his guitar at Shipwreck City. Thoughtful, slightly amusing one shot.


_**Disclaimer: **__I keep having to remind myself that they aren't mine... they belong to the Mouse._

_**Author's Note: **__Anyone who has read my fics knows that Will is released from the Dutchman. He and Elizabeth sail with Jack aboard the Black Pearl, much to the delight of the captain. _

_All of my readers know how I enjoy writing Captain Teague, so here is a thoughtful, slightly amusing one shot featuring Jack's papa... and a tip o' th' tricorn to a modern day rock band... enjoy, mates:) Pirate Cat_

_P.S. thanks to Jennifer Lynn Weston for a song suggestion, too! _

۞

The noise was deafening down below him; arguing voices and the sound of fists being slammed on the ancient, scarred tabletop. The minions of Mistress Ching were angrily fighting with the minions of Gentleman Jocard in proxy of each Pirate Lord... the chamber of the Brethren was often used to iron out differences of policy between the loosely governed structure of the Brethren of the Coast, in lieu of blowing each other out of the waters of the world, and many times the Lords would send someone in their stead to possibly kill each other... much to the general chagrin of the Keeper of the Code, whose Shipwreck City quarters were in a room above the din.

Captain Edward Jonathan Teague was standing upon the balcony that overlooked the chamber beneath him, out of sight of the small brawl that was taking place below. Bodies were now sailing across the table... one pirate had another by the throat, whilst another was knocked across the room and into the wall by a well swung chair. As the Keeper of the Pirata Codex, Teague was truly only obligated to uphold the rules which all members of the Brethren swore to sail under... but he was also to guard the Pirata Codex from any physical impairment or harm, and there was a definite threat in the chamber below him...

Annoyed, he wordlessly drew his pistol and, with one quick shot, the chandelier crashed to the tabletop below, effectively scattering the bickering pirates out of the way. As silence fell and they all stared up at the dark, threatening figure on the balcony, they heard a voice like deep Irish thunder growl..."Keep it down! I might blow **_your _**bloody brains out so's_** I **_can think, up here!"

...as they shook in their boots under the glittering, menacing black eyes of the Keeper, they did not need to be warned twice...

۞

Teague's fingers were lightly picking the strings of a guitar made of a deeply polished sea turtle's shell... it's tones were as rich and as deep as the colours of the shell and the pearl inlaid neck of the object of art in his hands. He had nearly forgotten what it sounded like, so long it had been since he had played it. He had several guitars, and his own hands were those of a master musician, as they caressed the strings of this particular instrument.

His dark eyes took on a faraway look, as he let his creased face relax into a small smile... the turtle shell guitar had not been touched since he had learned of his love's death almost thirty years ago. Young Maggie Sparrow had given the guitar to him as a gift, but he had left it unplayed after she died... it always went with him wherever he went, but it had remained silent until just this last Yuletide holiday...

He had spent it with the most profound gift that Maggie had presented him with all those years ago, his beloved son, Jack... he had loved his boy from afar for years, and Teague was grateful that his son was willing to meet him halfway to bury the past in many, many ways. They would always be like the sun and the moon, but then, Teague knew, the sun and the moon needed each other... so was it with him and his boy. Jackie was as spritely and wondrous as Maggie had been, and just as unbalanced, at times... but Jack's crew was a good crew, and they all tried to look after each other, especially his son's young first mate, William Turner the Second. Good man, William is, Teague mused.

_"In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty,_

_'Twas there I first met with sweet Molly Malone...  
_

Teague was surprised that this old Irish lament would be Jack's favourite song, but then the story of Molly Malone was so much like that of Jack's own mother, and seemed to help his son to cope with loss... just as surprisingly, Jack could sing as well as Teague could play guitar... how proud Maggie would have been of them! ... ahhh, Maggie.

"_Greensleeves was all my joy  
Greensleeves was my delight,  
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,  
And who but my lady greensleeves."_

That had been Maggie's favourite song. She was singing a more rousing song on the night that they had met in a pub in Dublin, Teague remembered with pleasure, but it was "_Greensleeves_" that was _their_ song, even as sad as the lyrics were... he could still hear her harp, and her clear, beautiful voice...

Teague paused... what was the name of that song that he had heard, recently, that made him think of young William Turner? The lad was one that had challenged him to a game of Liar's Dice over the winter holiday during their get together, and the whelp had solidly whipped Teague's arse and won the entire pile of peanuts that has been wagered.

Teague allowed himself a wry inward chuckle as he reminded himself that William had learned the game on the Flying Dutchman... William was the only man known to recover his living heart from the ship and walk away from the captaincy of said vessel alive, after he had restored her to her original purpose and won his freedom early... ahhh, yes, the song was called "_Tumbling Dice_"...

As his fingers let music flow from the glad strings of the guitar, the notes slowed, as his ponderings returned to his son... Jack had made Teague open his heart again, and had soothed the pain that Teague had felt for decades for Maggie's death... he still felt the guilt of not reconciling with her in time to save her life, and save his son from the terrible things that had befallen him because he was considered "coloured" by his gypsy heritage. His son had shown him that he could not change the past, but it did not make him miss Maggie less... "... _you can't always get what you want_..." yet another lyric from a song whose origin escaped him for now...

He continued playing softly, as he remembered a fellow whom he had learned so many new songs from, recently... Teague had visited a pub with his son and young Turner as he was preparing to leave Ireland at the end of their visit... there was a skinny bloke there, drinking some good Irish ale and singing in a strangely appealing way... raw, and yet honest... Teague remembered that they had all hit it off very well that evening...

Teague paused... he was remembering some of the songs that they had sung, but the Irish whiskey that Jack kept pouring for his father had made Teague's memory a bit fuzzy that night... how long had it been since that had happened, he wondered with some amusement. There was something about Jack and William that had made him feel much younger these days, Teague reasoned... aye, after all that they had experienced, his son and young Turner did enjoy some good fun... they were good mates to be around whilst in their cups, Teague decided... Turner was not quite as rollicking as Jackie could be, but had a sly, clever sense of humour that Teague appreciated - a tipsy William pointed out to Jack that he couldn't make up his mind who was skinnier, the other bloke or his captain, but young Turner had to admit that Jack was not as homely... the other bloke found them all to be good mates, and didn't care about anything but ale, songs and the serving wench, who just ignored them all, so they had sung the night away.

Many of the melodies that they had sung that night had stuck in Teague's head much like moss would stick to a tree trunk. What was hell was the name of that fellow that they had befriended in Ireland that night? Oh, bloody barnacles, Teague thought, the fellow's name was Mick... that's right... his name was Mick, and he was good singer, in a raw way... Jackie was a much _better_ singer, Teague thought, but Mick knew some damn good songs... those songs seemed to stick with him, like moss on a tree trunk...

Strange, Teague pondered randomly at the thought of moss, that he had been a rolling stone much of his life, and it was said that a rolling stone gathered no moss... odd, though, that he had gathered the memories of so many songs like so much moss, more than he had gathered other people around him... oh well, that doesn't matter, now... not as long as he had his son...

A soft knock came at the door, and the respectful voice of Captain Teague's first mate said, "Cap'n? The Star of Madagascar is ready t' sail, sir... we'll leave when you're ready to hoist th' anchors an' drop sails..."

"I'm comin'..." was Teague's short reply. He rose from his chair, and carefully wrapped his sea turtle shell guitar in the only covering that it had ever known... one of Maggie's colourful, fringed gypsy shawls. He placed the last of his necessary belongings into a simple, worn seabag, then opened the door ... summoning his servants, he watched as they hefted the trunk containing the Pirata Codex...

Looking around one last time, Teague blew out the candles, and slung his seabag over his shoulder... carefully picking up his priceless guitar, he headed toward his ship with a lighter heart than he'd had in years, for he was heading for his home port of the island of Madagascar. Jack and his crew were on their way for a visit... and Teague felt something that he might have put akin to being close to a feeling of exhiliration... he would see his son, again... pausing as he closed the door behind him, Teague almost grinned, as another song of that skinny bloke named Mick came to mind... aye, it described how he was feeling right now... he was going to see his boy, again...

"_Wild horses... couldn't drag me away..."_

The door clicked shut behind him, as Captain Teague hummed, with an unaccustomed smile in his gruff voice... he was going to see his boy, again...

_"...Wild, wild horses... couldn't drag me away..."_

_  
_۞


End file.
